Raised by the Wolves
by MerryAnchor16
Summary: Fantasy AU: "Sanji's mouth was dry. What the hell was this? There weren't supposed to be elves in the forest land. All of them lived up on the higher grounds..." One species, two different views on life, a war no one knew about building up and the Elven Prince Sanji has found himself in the middle of it all. Eventual ZoSan. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: In retrospect, writing another multi-chapter was a bad idea but I really want to write this :S**

**Hope you like it, please leave a comment if you wish~ ^^**

* * *

Evening was upon the forest, the few gaps way up in the canopy revealing glimpses of an amber sky. Birds screeched from up on their chosen branches to roost and a breeze tried and failed to make its way through the foliage to get to the ground below. A small stream ran twixt the trees, snaking around and sliding under thick roots to drop down to lower levels of earth, creating miniature waterfalls as it did. A few fireflies hung around the darkest patches where the light no longer reached, their wings humming lazily as they flew in sleepy patterns. Two squirrels chased one another across the mossy ground, knocking into long blades of grass and causing them to sway before they skittered up a tree trunk and disappeared into the branches above.

The sounds of cracking twigs underfoot had a few rabbits, who were huddled together by the running water, spook and dive for their dens underneath the brush. The deep tones of hushed male voices thrummed in the peaceful silence until the low hanging branch of a willow was pushed aside sending the once idle fireflies into a panicked frenzy, each one darting this way and that in an attempt to get away from the intruders.

Booted feet struggled to gather their bearings on the damp and uneven dirt, slushing mud and digging welts into the earth with their heels. They filed through one after the other, crushing anything they stepped on and eventually hacking the willow branch away with unnecessary brutality. There was a sharp rip of abrasive paper and a deep even breath as one of them lit up a small paper stick full of dried leaves and put it into their mouth.

Up in the canopy above, a trained eye watched with distaste.

There were five of them all together. Four bearing axes with blades larger than their heads and they joked and laughed in loud grunts and barks of sound. The other stood quietly, puffing out smoke from the tobacco filled paper resting on his lips. Over his shoulder hung a quiver and his bow. The weapon was a thing of beauty the arc of it made from a Sapphire Willow, making the bow flexible but sturdy and was doused in a resin that made the blue and purple tinted grain glow in a ghost-like manner. In his leather quiver were housed an array of arrows each more stunning than the last, the feathered plumage at the top varying across a numerous colour scheme. He was clad in Royal Blue robes and trousers, the silvery glitter of chainmail peeking out underneath, and his long hair with its numerous shades of blonde was pulled back into a plait that fell to his narrow waist and revealed his two gracefully pointed ears. One blue eye, the right one hidden by a fringe that tumbled to his collarbone, flicked from side to side as though bored of his surroundings.

The trained eyes up above watched him closely, barely able to contain a venomous hiss as the blonde pointed towards a Lullaby Birch casually with one hand and gave some unkown signal. The eyes watched as the four elves moved as one and began to swing their axes, hacking into the first layer of bark that gave way with a mournful cry no one but the eyes seemed to hear. The man high up tore his gaze away and stood up with perfect blance on the branch he was perched on. He growled softly before leaping and landing silently on the next tree's branch as he made his way through the well-known network of trees.

He had to alert the Chief.

Prince Sanji the Third, Son of King Zeff, Head Commanding Archer of the Military and the Heir of the throne of All Blue was bored. He looked around the forest with contempt in his eyes and a furrowed swirled eyebrow. His chainmail weighed him down considerably and he loathed the way it sat on him, digging into his collarbones until they were raw with bruises. He felt his bow slip from his shoulder so he took it off and into his hand, the unicorn hair drawstring soft on the flesh of his fingers. He jigged the weapon up and down, bouncing off his digits impatiently and the blue wood of the arc tapped against his leather wrist guards. His tongue fiddled with the cigarette in his mouth.

As his men set to work cutting down the Lullaby Birch, Sanji scowled at his feet until he noticed some impressions in the dirt. He crouched down, running his fingers over the wide base shape and four toes. A wolf, he concluded, and not that long gone- the tracks were still fresh. The Elven Prince smirked as he tugged an arrow free from its quiver, resting it at the ready on the drawstring of his bow. Maybe his day wouldn't be so boring after all. If he wasn't allowed to flirt with the ladies then he might as well partake in some hunting. He spat out his cigarette and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot before setting off through a small break in the trees where the tracks led.

It wasn't that Sanji hated Zeff, he loved his father, it was just that the shitty old geezer was too controlling at times. You could bet that if Sanji wanted to do something then Zeff wouldn't let him. Take today for example. The young Prince had merely wanted to spend the night at the tavern, to have a few drinks and flirt with a few lucky ladies but the King had forbidden it. So Sanji was stuck on tree felling duty with four guys he didn't like and had only just managed to sneak his bow out with him. The Prince hadn't complained at first, he'd rather been looking forward to going into the Deep Forest without an escort of guards for a change but of course Zeff had sent him to the only goddamn place in the whole forest without any Nymphs! He'd kept a lookout the whole way there, watching for any lounging by the rivers or strutting through the trees but he hadn't seen a single one, "Shitty bastard..." He grumbled.

Sanji kept his bow raised at mid height, the two leading fingers of his right hand poised either side of the arrow as he stalked through the shrubbery ducking under low hanging twigs and brushing past thickets with the softest of sounds. He'd stopped briefly to tuck his long hair into his belt so he wouldn't get caught on any plant life, a lesson learnt the hard way whilst he had been an Archer in training. He narrowed his eyes as he crept deeper into the forest, the sounds of the tree fellers a little more dulled out at this distance but were there all the same. He paused at a patch of Hushed Brambles and listened as they whispered to one another, sharing secrets as though they were the voice of the forest themselves. 'Night' they said, 'night' and 'elf' and 'pain' and 'wolf'. Sanji smiled, he was on the right track.

He pushed on forwards, stepping nimbly over roots that attempted to snag his ankles and ignoring the thorns that tried desperately to pierce his chainmail. There were sounds of movement up ahead, of snuffling and padding paws. Sanji crouched, looking under the gaps in the brush to see two shadows moving. Two wolves. The Prince smiled, even better.

He slunk up silently, his feet trained and body held in the manner of an expert hunter until he reached the wall of thickets and bush. With a swift movement, the string of the bow was drawn back and the arrow released into majestic flight as he hopped to his feet. A loud, animalistic grunt had him smirking in certainty that the projectile had found its mark. Not that he expected it to miss, he never missed.

With his free hand, he pushed off a large, raised tree root and hurdled neatly over the thick crop of nature and landed on the dirty compacted earth of a small clearing. The treeline was thinner here, enabling the light of the sunset to come tumbling through, forming orange blotches beneath his feet. His blue eyes narrowed at the one body, it had seemed the other animal had made a quick escape before he had chance to slay it too. Not that it mattered, the size of the one he had struck was formidable enough.

The large wolf had its back to him, but Sanji could see the arrow jutting out of it. It was still alive, its chest heaving in ragged breaths and its body twitching every so often. Sanji shouldered his bow and tugged the knife out of its sheath from the belt around his hips. He'd put it out of his misery quickly. He stepped forward slowly but the minute his boot connected with the ground, the wolf turned, leaping up and twisting into a crouching position and Sanji almost dropped the knife.

This was no wolf.

An elf stared back at him, naked save for the earthy brown cloth wrapped around his lower parts and a wolf's pelt thrown over his back, held to his body at the wrists and head where the dead wolf's hollowed out snout covered the elf's scalp. The elf was dark in skin colour, tanned and scarred flesh stretched out over strong and toned muscles. In a rich terracotta were hand engraved tattoos of a tribal kind and they danced in patterns up his arms, hands, wrists, chest and cheekbones. Scars riddled his torso and the left side of his face, where an eye was permanently shut. From his right temple, a single braid decorated by beads and feathers tumbled to his collarbone. The single, well functioning eye glared threateningly at the blade in Sanji's hand and lips curled back over white teeth in a feral snarl.

Sanji's mouth was dry. What the hell was this? There weren't supposed to be elves in the forest land. All of them lived up on the higher grounds. Zeff had told him so... His eyes spotted the shaft of the arrow jutting out of the other's thigh, deep red blood oozing down the thick muscled limb. On some sort of reflexive instinct, he put out his hand, "Your leg..."

A low rumble that only became increasingly louder slipped out of the other elf's lips and he sunk lower on all fours in a defensive stance. Sanji moved though before the other could make his escape. He'd shot a man, he couldn't just leave him! "Please, let me-"

Suddenly the world flipped and Sanji found himself on his back, his heart racing at the coldness of his own knife as it pressed against the skin of his throat. One dark eye glared at him, lips screwed in a snarl. The wolf-clad elf had him pinned to the ground, the knife poised and ready.

"I have seen you..." A voice that was more akin to a growl rattled in Sanji's ears and it took him a moment to process it was coming from the feral elf above him, "You hurt her. You cut her trees, you kill her children. Now_ I_ will cut _you_. _I_ will kill _you_." The knife moved up further and Sanji gasped. He wanted to beg for his life but words failed him as he looked up into that almost flint black eye. He swallowed, shivering when his Adams's apple bobbed and grazed the sharp edge of the knife creating a stinging pain as something warm trickled down his neck and round to the hood of his travelling robe. The wolf-elf snarled, "You disgust me, you all do. The way you treat her... The way you _hurt_ her..." The elf brought up the knife in a swooping arc and roared, "DIE!"

Sanji's eyes widened as the blade plummeted down. Oh God. He was going to die. He was going to die. His words caught in his throat that was soon to be punctured by this crazy elf. He wouldn't get to be king. There wouldn't be an heir anymore. All those women he'd never get to court-

"Rghh!" The wolf-elf grunted and Sanji opened his eyes, not even aware that he'd closed them. The other elf was looking far off to the right, the way Sanji had entered. His nose twitched and he sniffed twice and made a deep noise of irritation. He put the knife down, throwing it some distance. Not that Sanji could grab it anyway with his arms prisoner in the elf's straddling thighs. Suddenly the blond's face was grabbed with rough fingers and he was forced to look up, "You come here again, and I will kill you. Do you understand?!"

Sanji had no time to give his answer as the other dug his long nails into the flesh of his cheek and twisted his body, springing off the Elven Prince and taking off out of the clearing with a rustle of leaves and a clatter of twigs behind him. Sanji sat up, bringing a palm to his burning cheek and pulled it away with a hiss to see a blossom of purple blood. His eyes turned back to the small gap amongst the trunks of the trees where the crazed elf had taken his leave. His heart was racing in his mouth.

What the hell had that been about?!


	2. Chapter 2

Quick note: Zoro has red blood and Sanji has purple, reasons will become clear later.

* * *

He half strode, half limped through the trees with deep rumbling growls and snarls. His left hand was sore and riddled with splinters from where he'd struggled and pulled at the arrow in his thigh. The head was still lodged but the shaft was broken a quarter of the way along and the wound was inflamed from where he'd prodded at it. He dragged the one braid in his hair away from his eyes as it swung to and fro from his temple and tucked it behind his pointed ear. If he had brought his sword with him he could've put an end to those filthy mountain elves himself. He hated them all, loathed their existance of ignorance. How could they not see that they were hurting her: the forest? Could they not hear her laments as she wailed in agony? Why did they torture her so?

And that blond elf. It was his doing. Any time a group of elves came in, he was the one at the front leading the assault. Zoro, Heir of the Wolf Clan, had watched him for some time now. Studied him, sized him up. Zoro growled lowly at the memory of the young mountain elf beneath him and his ears flexed and flattened out back in a way akin to a dog when provoked. He should've killed him whilst he had the chance.

Hushed Brambles snickered as he brushed past, "_Elf... Blond... Kill, kill... Leave him alone.._." They taunted. Zoro bared his teeth, two sharp top canines revealing themselves and his eye reflexively looked down at the dark brown tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. It was of an old tree, twisted and gnarled but bent gracefully in softened arcs of its trunk and the weaved pattern of its branches where leaves and blossom grew full and aplenty. He frowned. Why had she told him to stop? He'd been ready to kill that blond swine of a creature when he'd felt it hit him. She'd reached out with her voice and begged him to stop- to let the elf go.

He stopped walking a moment to brush the fingertips of his right hand over the picture imbedded into his skin and look up at the darkening canopy above, "What are you planning?" He murmured.

The Hushed Brambles roused up again, "_What's the plan?... Planning... Blond elf... Blond... Zoro... Leave him alone_..."

But, among the many voices of the forest, she did not reply.

* * *

Sanji stormed up the staircase, a flight of steps carved into the rock of the mountain around a large shaft of mineral. A hand rail of amethyst, carved into picturesque swirls and ornate patterned leaves, ran along the other side. Sanji's free hand trailed up it lazily, fingertips barely touching the crystal's smoothed surface and the pathway ahead of him illuminated by chunks of Glowstone which cast it all in a blue hue. Being under a mountain, Glowstone was a much needed resource to keep the city a few tens of feet below him in some form of day. Yet the bioluminescent stone had only one permanent shade, keeping everything in a dreamlike haze of blue, thus giving the Elven city the title of All Blue. It was the city that, one day, Sanji would inherit and rule.

Despite the rumours, elves did not have eternal life, though they lived for very extended periods of time. The Prince was only the twenty first year into his life which made him one of the youngest in whole citadel. His father, Zeff, was into his hundred and fourth year of life and, though he'd married early in his life, had only decided to have children much later. Sanji had never known his mother, she'd died shortly after his second birthday so it wasn't as though he had any significant memories of her, though he liked to think he remembered her smile which occurred so very often in his dreams.

Reaching the last few steps, he jogged up them neatly and walked briskly over the little arched bridge that curved over the top of the chasm underneath it. Lullaby Birch panels creaked underfoot and Sanji's bow and quiver bounced against his hip rhythmically and painfully, a bruise forming from where the feral elf slammed him into the ground. He thought back to what had happened and shook his head. What he'd seen couldn't have been real, right? Elves didn't roam the woodlands. They lived on the High Grounds, they always had. He grit his teeth, he'd ask Zeff. As much as the old guy annoyed him, he was certain that some clarification from him would certainly settle his doubtful and flustered mind.

He crossed the bridge and took a right turn, following the path down with echoing patters of footsteps and then turned left where two large doors made from Twilight Oak were slotted into the handcarved archway. They reached up at easily ten meters tall, the wood a blue black colour with tints of orange and pink, hence earning it its name. One of the four guards, clad in shimmering silver and blue armour, smiled,

"Good evening, Sire!" He said cheerfully, "It's now two hours until dinner is served."

Sanji nodded briefly, barely taking in the elf's words as he watched the doors be pulled open by the other three guards, the system of cranks on the hinges clunking and groaning. His mind was only trained on what he would ask his father at dinner. A sudden touch on his arm made him jolt and his head whipped to see the guard frowning at him, "Sire, your face! May I ask what happened?"

Sanji's hand reached up, long fingers touching tentatively at the flesh of his cheek where the elf earlier had punctured it with sharp nails. He brushed the question off, "A hunting accident."

"It looks terribly nasty, you should go to the physician. Would you like me to call for-"

"No. That'll be all," Sanji said, annoyed at being treated as though he were fragile. He may be a prince, but that did not make him weak. The guard bowed lightly,

"As you wish, Sire."

Sanji strode past and through the doorway into the courtyard, his deep blue travelling cloak billowing out from over his shoulders. He took the flight of steps into the main entrance, walked silently past any and all servants who tried to stop and ask him about the marks on his face, and passed the Great Hall to the grand staircase where he climbed yet another flight of stairs, pausing briefly at the top to take off his bow and slip the quiver of arrows under one arm. He then made his way down the carpeted corridor, his steps muffled and soft, and pulled open a door on the right side of the wall, stepping in.

Sanji looked around his dark room for a moment before rubbing his free hand over a Glowstone the chunk of rock flickering to life and triggering all the others dotted about the chamber to light as well, casting the place in a soft blue light. Sanji placed his weapon against the wall and the pouch of arrows onto a dark wooden chest before collapsing onto his four poster bed, the deep indigo sheets puffing up around him. He stared up at the ceiling, the artfully crafted plaster forming curved and intricate leaves with even more detailed flowers. He stared at it a while as though it could explain to him what had happened merely an hour ago. He could still see the one dark eye boring into him, burning into his very mind. That elf had not been ordinary and Sanji didn't recall ever seeing him in the streets of the city on his rounds with the Royal Guard.

He sat up as he recalled the arrow that would undoubtedly still be in the other's leg. Sanji bit his lip. He hoped the other was alright and had someone to tend to him... He blinked and frowned. What a stupid thought! Why should he care? The other had tried to kill him after all and had rambled like a mad man! Sanji had no reason to worry about one pathetic piece of vermin when he had a kingdom to help maintain!

Yet still his mind was restless. He couldn't seem to get over the fact that he had seen an elf living in the forest. They no longer lived there anymore. The mountains were a much better place for industry and trade. The woodland was only for supplies and resources now, the old settlements long since abandoned and lost to the hands of time. Sanji sighed and tugged his long plait around to his front, unknotting the ribbon that held it in shape and untangled the loops of blonde hair so that it spilled down straight, some of it pooling in his lap before he swung it back around and stood up.

He moved to the gold and sapphire tapestry hanging from the wall and tugged it sideways on its rail, revealing an enormous full length mirror with its gold leafed frame. He opened the wardrobe next to it and selected a robe from his evening section, pulling the silken fabric out in one fluid movement and laying it out on the bed, the silver cloth a stark contrast against the dark sheets. He stood before the looking glass and redressed, slipping the garment over his head and the rest of his body, hooking his hair in his fingers to drag it out and over his left shoulder. He smoothed out his fringe.

Evening went by as it usually did. The Prince arrived at the Banquet Hall, donned the blue crown with its three equally spaced spires and intricated swirls of silver between, and joined in sitting at the largest table in the room by Zeff's right hand. The other elves, all the king's knights, sat at the two long tables situated either side of the room. There was plenty of food, drink and chatter, some of the more intoxicated knights guffawing loudly at a shared joke before they filed out for bed.

Sanji stood and watched as the last few stragglers stood up to leave, urging them mentally to hurry up. The second the doors closed Sanji turned, "Father," He said politely.

Zeff sighed, "What do you want?"

He was getting to his feet as Sanji said, "Are there still elves in the woodland realm?"

The young prince watched as the king froze mid movement. The pause was brief but Sanji saw it nonetheless. Zeff cleared his throat, "Why would you ask a ridiculous question like that?"

Sanji cocked his eyebrow, "That isn't an answer."

Zeff frowned, "I've told you this already. We elves abandoned the woods a century ago. No elf has ever lived there since."

A flash of a dark eye, a snarling mouth, the cold of the blade against his throat. Sanji swallowed, "You're absolutely certain about that?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Just answer the question!" Sanji barked, a sudden urge of anger taking over him. Why was Zeff avoiding him?

Zeff grit his teeth, "Of course I'm certain, you spoiled brat! No one, elvish or otherwise lives in that blasted forest! Let me ask _you_ a question," He pointed an accusing finger at his son, "What has made you want to ask such foolish things? You've been distant and quiet ever since you came back from your duties today! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Sanji blinked, rather stunned at the other's outburst, his mouth dried as flashes of the wolf skin clad elf ran past behind his eyes. The cuts on his cheek and throat itched suddenly. There could've been no way he'd imagined that elf. He'd been too real. Scarily real.

"Well?" The king pressed.

Sanji stared at him a moment before saying in a quiet voice, "Nothing... I just... It didn't mean anything."

Zeff's eyes narrowed sharply, "What happened in that forest? What did you see?"

The memories of what had happened seemed to flurry up stronger at that. The prince felt nauseous, "Nothing. I saw nothing and nothing happened."

Zeff scowled, "You're lying to me, little eggplant..."

"I'm not lying!" Sanji said hurriedly, "It was just... Something brought up by one of the men you sent me with today..."

Zeff scoffed at that then glowered, "Whatever you thought you saw in that forest, it wasn't real. That place is still enchanted by Old Magic. What you thought you saw was just an illusion!"

"Like hell it was, old man!" Sanji snapped, a split second later realizing what he'd said.

"So you did see something!"

"No! I-!"

"What was it? Tell me."

"I don't have to tell you anything!"

"You will tell me! As your king!" Zeff barked.

At that, Sanji felt a surge of anger. He hated it when the old man used this card on him- as though Zeff didn't control his life enough! He snarled, "You're a pretty shitty king!" He stormed out of the hall, kicking the door with the heel of his boot for emphasis.

Zeff stared after him with narrowed eyes. If his son had seen what he assumed in that forest, then he had a crisis on his hands.

* * *

Zoro was curled up in the roots of a Dreamweaver Oak, sleeping atop a mound of leaves he'd gathered up. He'd figured rest was needed to help keep the pain at bay until he could return to the Clan. Slowly, he cracked his one eye open and grumbled in the back of his throat. He let out a whiny and long yawn, stretching out his tattooed limbs, and injured leg, tentatively. The skin tugged around the arrow head deep in his flesh but it wasn't so bad anymore, the lethargy in his blood dull his pain reception for a while. He dragged himself up onto all fours and flexed once more, his arms reaching out along the foliage covered earth and his spine dipping and clicking. The hollowed out hood of his wolf pelt sat awkwardly atop his head and he shook, letting it fall down to around his neck and shoulders and reveal his roughly cropped green hair. Blinking a few times, he crawled out from under the Dreamweaver's roots and sat crouched with his gaze slowly adjusting to the dim light of dawn.

No search parties then. Good. It meant Kitetsu had done as he'd said for once and passed on the message not to look for him- that wolf was too unruly at times.

Something wasn't right though, Zoro could sense it in the air. The forest was quieter than usual- the trees barely talking to one another. There was a tension so thick it made his hackles rise. He stood up and looked all around through the tangle of Sapphire Willow branches and sniffed deeply a few times before he caught something. A scent.

The smell, slightly faint from the distance it had travelled, met his nose and he growled lowly. Tobacco- a filthy habit from the mountain elves, using parts of the forest's herbs to burn and breathe in. It burned Zoro's nostrils and windpipe as the sudden rustling and chattering noises alerted him to the forest finally discovering who had disrupted the peace. He moved back and splayed his palm out over the bark of the Dreamweaver Oak's trunk and closed his eye to focus as the sudden uproar of sound swarmed over him. He listened intently as a thousand voices hissed and wheezed in phantom-like manners,

"_Intruder... Blond... Bow... Crown? A crown?... Has returned... Why? Why?..._"

Until, all at once, as one, they said,

"_Mountain elf_."

Zoro opened his eye and smiled maliciously.


End file.
